


Sleep Tight

by LovelyLittleGrim



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Gen, Guilt, Liam apologizes to Theo, theos truck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 16:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15198323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LovelyLittleGrim/pseuds/LovelyLittleGrim
Summary: Liam apologizes for not doing anything.





	Sleep Tight

The pillow is soft and worn, old blood stains marring the fabric. It smells like cold sweat and angry tears; like loneliness and hopeless dreams and fear. It smells like Theo.

“He slept here.”

It’s such a simple statement but it crushes something inside of Liam as he says it aloud. The truck is empty, the keys missing, the windows foggy with morning dew.

The blanket laid across the back seat is tattered and thin. It’s not enough to keep anyone warm on the long cold nights. Liam wonders how many shivers it tried to stave off, how many nightmares it wrapped around and cries it muffled.

He doesn’t know what to do with this knowledge. It’s just there now, at the forefront of his mind weighing him down with guilt.

Liam thinks he should have known. The signs had all been there plain for the world to see if the world had actually decided to look. He can easily recount the bruises beneath pale eyes, the thinning cheeks and pallid complexion.

“He was my responsibility.”

Liam doesn’t know who he’s talking to. There’s no one else here save for him. Maybe he’s speaking to himself or maybe he hopes someone else is listening in on his whispered words.

He closes the door, it mutes the scent inside the truck but it does nothing to quiet Liam’s rampant thoughts of a boy not much older than himself. A boy who slept in this truck all alone parked at the edge of town.

There’s a parking ticket on the windshield, the paper sun bleached and damp. Liam wonderers how many times Theo had been forced to move his truck, how many times officers tapped on the window and stared a broken boy in the eyes just to tell him he had to leave. He wonders how many times someone could have helped—should have helped— but didn’t. It’s always easier to look away than to extend a hand.

Liam’s fingers curl, his nails digging into his palms until blood wells, thick and warm. It drips onto the cement, bright splashes of color on a grey canvas.

It’s too late to help; too late for Liam’s hands to reach out. Theo had needed someone in his corner but he’d only had cobwebs for company.

“I’m sorry,” Liam says as he stares at his own face in the window, condensation beading on the glass and distorting the image. His reflection cries for him, fat tears rolling down pale cheeks. “I’m so sorry, Theo.”

A boy slept in this truck all alone.

And now he sleeps in the dirt.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I don’t know what this is.
> 
> You can imagine Theo dying how ever you want. Personally, I think he died helping them fight.


End file.
